


Titanic skillset

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Legends of Destiny [5]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Dead vex, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: There's one thing that titans are better at than anything.
Series: Legends of Destiny [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1063367
Kudos: 9





	Titanic skillset

**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill, had it for ages, uploading because why not. Maybe someone will enjoy.

Titans get a lot of flack for being overly simple, and rightly so. Hunters can turn their guns to fire, dance with lightning, pull black holes from their own misery and use them to make orbs of pure light in an endless war against the darkness -- the same darkness that inspires that misery. That’s tactical.

Warlocks can pull fire from the sky, make bombs out of negative space. They can caress an entire storm into obliterating the enemies of the light.

There is one thing Titans do better than anyone else, though:

They don’t move.

BK is exhausted, shaking, on his hands and knees. Armies of bronze machines stride towards him; behind him, a hunter swallows hard and shoots himself in the head. Better to reset than to deal with running on a broken leg. But his ghost needs a few seconds to get the resurrection going, and it can’t do that if it’s surrounded by Vex. So BK stands, grimaces as the bloody mess that used to be his left knee grinds and screams in pain, ignores the sickening drip of his vital fluid onto the cold ground, and stops.

His light writhes under his command, before shoving out, grabbing a pocket of space, and inverting it as if to say, “Sorry, no, this is mine now.”

The ion lances and warheads made of collapsed temporal anomalies scream towards him, and then impact his own piece of reality and turn the darkness into a new dawn as a glimmering wall of amethyst energy solidifies in their path. BK grins under his helmet as a wall of explosive force blankets the area, the outside of his bubble is rocked and buffeted with enough force and power to unseat a mountain, but he doesn't care.

Stray vex start to trickle into his area, striding through the firestorm outside and into this little pocket of dimensional wizardry, but their powers don’t apply here. In here, BK is God and his fists are Pope and Preacher.

He goes to work, grasping a goblin at its neck and chin, and wrenching the pieces apart with such force that the metal rips like paper. His next target is another goblin. It really doesn’t take much. He clenches his fist and slams it into its midsection and the creature shatters, reinforced glass and milky-white radiolarian fluid sluicing out onto the ground in leaping waves. 

The next is a minotaur. BK leaps for it, his shoulder slamming into its neck in a spear-tackle that would absolutely be illegal in rugby. His hand goes into its arm joint as they crash to the floor, and he feels around until he finds a solid clump of wires and piping. His fist clenches and he tears it from its housing, dousing the machine’s hull in radiolaria. His next act is to physically rip the robot’s head off, punching through it's eye-socket and tearing the entire assembly apart, holding back a grimace radiolaria splashed against his armour; he was not enjoying this.

Vex fall left and right until finally; a hydra floats into his bubble of light. BK leaps at it, catching the hull at its neck and slamming a fist repeatedly into the eye until the ruby glass cracks and shatters. BK hits it again. And again. He doesn’t stop until his gauntlets are scraped clean of paint and the hydra’s skull resembles a cooking skillet. Groaning, he levers himself up from the desiccated metal corpse and looks at what used to be an army.

The Hunter behind him sighs as his ghost adds the last touches on his resurrection, then his eyes bulge and ghost quietly fixes a burst blood-vessel as he surveys the field of unprecedented carnage.  
“What did I… miss?”  
BK turns to him with a grin in his heavily accented voice and holds up a clenched fist.  
“Problem solving.”


End file.
